


You Are My Family

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Baby Lottery, Bellarke do have sweet moments, Clarke/Other Men Beside Bellamy, Dominance/submission, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Not as dark as the prompt, Pregnancy, That's the nonconsent, The 100 (TV) Kink Meme, The Ark Stays in Space, Things are crazy but Bellarke are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Prompt from the 2019 Kink Meme: How children are really conceived on the Ark: a fertile young woman (Clarke) is tied up in a room, and all men who have not yet made a child are allowed to fuck her as much or as hard as they want during her fertile window (five days-ish). Like, she is just dripping cum for five days. Then, the young woman is quarantined until signs of pregnancy. As soon as paternity can be determined, the two are married.So, obviously, Bellamy is one of those men.





	1. Chapter 1

When Jaha appears with Jake at her apartment door, Abby nearly faints. She throws herself into his arms, burying her face into his broad chest to conceal the tears streaming down her cheeks. He hugs her tightly, kissing the top of her head.   
  
"I thought you were dead! They pulled you out of the court room to float you!" she gasps through broken sobs. "I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to save us. And now they took Clarke--"  
  
"Shhhh," Jake says soothingly into her honey-streaked hair. But they've been married for twenty years. She can feel the tension creep into his body, inching through his frame muscle by muscle.   
  
"What is it?" Abby pulls away, wiping her face and glancing from one man to the other intently. "What's going on?"   
  
Jaha sighs, drawing himself up straighter.   
  
"This is just borrowed time, Abby. It's the best the Council could agree on. You get ten more months with Jake and then ..." he clamps a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "He gets floated. I'm so sorry. I tried to make the case, but ... their decision was final."   
  
Abby curves herself against her husband's side as they turn together as one toward their leader. "I don't understand!" Abby stammers, left hand splayed across her husband's chest. Jaha takes in the sparkle of her wedding band in the dim light. "Why ten months? Why didn't you tell me! And what about Clarke?" she finishes on an angry shout.   
  
"It was thought your opinion could not be unbiased," Jaha says delicately, hands folded together across his stomach.   
  
"Abby," Jake says quietly. "Clarke was chosen for The Lottery. The Council's reinstating it because fertility levels have dropped too low."   
  
"Oh my God!" Abby covers her mouth in horror. She's suddenly dizzy, crashing to her knees unconsciously as Jake falls to the ground with her, wrapping his arms around her shaking shoulders and staring up at Jaha like he's the devil himself.   
  
The Lottery - it's a nightmare story she heard whispers about in her childhood when she ventured to the seedier side of The Exchange to collect thread and buttons for her mother. It hasn't been a reality since The Blight's incredibly low nutrition options and high death rates plummeted fertility to unsustainable levels.   
  
"You can't do this to her!" Abby screams, breathing heavily. "You can't do that to anyone!" She launches herself to her feet, intent to sink her nails into Jaha's face if she has to, but her husband pulls her back, kicking and spitting until he's wedged his own body between her and the Chancellor.   
  
"I got Jake back to you. It's all they would settle for," Jaha looks truly pained. "He can stay here with you until Clarke gives birth. Then there will be a new life to take his place."   
  
*  
"Prisoner 319, face the wall."   
  
"What is this?" Clarke tries to wrench out of the guard's grip, blonde braid nearly hitting him in the face.   
  
"Quiet. Hold out your right arm."   
  
"No, no!" she begins to beg, hysteria rising into her voice. "No, it's not my time! I'm not old enough for a trial! I'm only 16!"   
  
"We're not here for your trial."   
  
Clarke stares down at the bright red bracelet made of some sort of plastic he's snapped to her wrist. LOTTERY SUBJECT NOV. 2148.   
  
Something rolls around at the back of her mind. A fragment of a story told to her by her mother when she helped deliver her first   
child in medbay earlier that year. It's the breeding bracelet.   
  
"You've been selected for this month's Lottery," the guard says before pushing her out the door.

* * *

A heavy steel chain rests against her ankle bone, connected to a spike in the middle of the room. It's barren except for a a large mattress, stained amber in one corner, and a few chairs. She wears a white lace shift with cap sleeves that ends at mid thigh and dips low to show off her generous breasts. The guard had denied her panties or a bra when he pushed it into her hands and ordered her to change immediately.   
  
She sits on the mattress now shivering, the heavy door recently locked and bolted behind her. Suddenly, Jaha's voice fills the room from above. It must be an intercom system.   
  
"Welcome to The Lottery, Clarke Griffin," he begins. "Fertility levels are dropping on the Ark, and we must ensure the survival of the human race. That burden this month is yours to bear. You are in the most fertile period of your cycle and will be for the next five days. You will remain here during that time. All the men of the Ark who have not yet fathered a child will visit you in an attempt to make you pregnant. We do not put restrictions upon how they accomplish this task. When the five days is over, you will be quarantined and examined for signs of pregnancy. If you fall pregnant and deliver a healthy child, your crimes will be pardoned. A paternity test will be performed, and you will marry the child's father. Your first visitor will arrive in ten minutes time. Thank you for your sacrifice to the cause." 


	2. Chapter 2

The first day the only person she knows is Shumway. He's insistent on her getting on her knees and sucking him dry even though she's never done it before. As he rapidly hardens petting her hair and calling her a good girl, he pulls himself out of her mouth with a pop. Next thing she knows, she's flailing onto her belly and he's lifting her up roughly onto her hands and knees and rolling her thin shift up over her ass. He reaches a hand between her thighs and starts playing with the lips of her pussy, rolling a coaxing finger around and around her clit before pushing a finger inside. She spasms, lower back lifting, but he holds her down, crowds against her spine, and whispers in her ear. "You'll suck my sperm better into your tight cunt if you orgasm during this you know."   
  
  
  
He's the first person who's ever penetrated her before. She's chained down by the ankle, sure monitors are watching her every move. She thought solitary was hell, all alone with nobody to talk to for weeks on end. But no, no this will definitely break her. When Shumway brings the head of his cock to her opening, she grits her teeth and tries to breathe through her nose. He gets a rhythm going as soon as he bursts past her hymen, until she can hear his balls slapping into the backs of her thighs. Eventually he tugs her up with a hand on her belly button so she's flush with his chest and strokes at her clit repeatedly until she feels her body rising, tightening, pulsing with a rhythmic release deep in her pelvis that she can't control. He comes immediately after that, hot liquid gushing up her walls while his cock's still stuffed inside her. She pants, palms landing on the mattress, whimpering when he draws out slowly and slaps her ass once hard.   
  
  
  
"That was good, Clarke," he calls from above. "I'll be back."   
  
  
  
That's how it starts. She has other cocks slide inside her after that, brown ones, black ones, others pale as the snow she's seen in movies. Some are thick, some short, and some can reach the end of her channel and put pressure on her cervix. But she doesn't know who they belong to. Just that she's used. Over and over again.   
  
  
  
If she knew what revenge fucking even was, she would know that was what motivates Kane on day two. His brown hair is slicked back, and he starts taking off all his clothes the moment he enters the room and the door clicks closed behind him. He eyes her like she's something to eat, this man who shared meals with her parents in the mess hall once upon a time. When he holds his body over hers on the mattress, he plunges his dick inside her little body relentlessly, murmuring how Abby should have been his but instead he got stuck with her best friend when she met that asshole Jake.   
  
  
  
"Ask daddy to come in your slutty pussy, Clarke," he demands, bringing a hand up to her throat. He presses on her windpipe, and she panics, fingers clawing over his to make it stop. "Say it. Beg me for it."  
  
  
  
"Please," she gasps brokenly when his other hand starts toying with her slippery folds stretched tight around his large cock. "Please come inside daddy."  
  
  
  
Still, he doesn't. He holds down her wrists next and brings his mouth to her nipples instead, flicking his tongue against them over and over until she's dizzy and her pussy pulses with it. He pulls his dick out of her almost completely and languidly strokes inside, brushing up against her g-spot while his fingertips reach around her to play with her asshole. She clenches, trying to keep him out, but of course that's as futile as her fighting everything else that's happened to her. "Gonna come in that hot snatch of yours, baby," he promises her darkly, biting at her jaw then sucking at her neck. "Tell daddy you want it."   
  
  
  
"Daddy please make me pregnant," she finally manages the words he insisted she say at the beginning. "Make my stomach swell and my tits grow so big you can't fit them in your hands anymore."   
  
  
  
He groans like an animal, finally shooting his load straight into her pussy, which clamps down around him like a vice when his finger finally pushes into her ass against her will.  
  
  
  
Day three changes everything. That's the day Bellamy Blake walks through her door. 


	3. Chapter 3

The buzz of the door's locking system startles her from sleep. She has no concept of night and day in here, but it must have been late night because nobody has bothered her for hours. Clarke blinks, groggy, sore between her legs from her last visitor. The lights slowly come up but are kept low, and she sees a tall, muscular man's profile. He has dark hair and carries himself stiffly, like a soldier. When he turns to face her, she gasps.   
  
  
  
"Bellamy," she breathes, heart jumping to her throat.   
  
  
  
He takes her in in her skimpy outfit he can see from the blanket she pushed back. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Repeats the process twice more. He's got purple bags under his eyes, and his hair's a tangled mess. He looks weather-beaten and torn down. As he draws a few steps nearer, she notices it's as if a sort of weight presses on his spine, curving him forward a little.   
  
  
  
He's her ... well, there's no word for what Bellamy is - _was_ she corrects herself in her mind quickly - to her. She was a quiet child, smart for her age and always around important adults, so she knew how to speak well. It showed in school that her parents had the time and resources to teach her about whatever subject she developed an interest in. But when she sat down in the Earth Skills course last year, she felt small and inconsequential as the older teenagers shuffled around her, ignoring Pike's request that they take their seats so he could get started.   
  
  
"That's my seat, Princess," a gruff voice said from above her head. "Get up."   
  
  
  
She'd looked up at a young man a few years older than her with glinting dark eyes that danced at her bewildered expression and clashed with his tone.   
  
  
  
No. She was not going to let this idiot intimidate her. So she squared her shoulders and channeled her mother. "Not anymore," she snapped back and then gave her full attention to the front of the room.   
  
  
  
The guy was as obnoxious as she first imagined. He sat right next to her, leaning over to casually ask if she knew the best vendor at The Exchange to buy a new crown from because the jewels in his were falling out. Still, she ignored him, clenching her jaw. She immediately swatted his hand off her shoulder when he gave up and tried to apologize. "Calm down, Princess. I'm just screwing around. It's not everyday you meet Ark royalty." She felt his gaze linger on her cheek and finally turned to him to see a small smile tugging his lip upward. His tan hand was extended in the space between them. "Bellamy Blake," he said.   
  
  
  
She swallowed, considered him for a long moment before reaching out her hand for his. His grip was sure and secure and made her feel small again, but in a less frightening way. "Clarke," she tried to hiss but found it harder. "Call me by my name."   
  
  
  
The second time class met, Bellamy sat down beside her again. And the third, too. After that it became a pattern. But the close proximity didn't mean he was always easy to get along with. He liked to argue with her - about the best way to start a fire, sneak up on a wild animal, build weapons, build walls.   
  
  
  
"What would we even need guns for?" she chased him down in the hallway after a particularly heated discussion that left Pike rolling his eyes and another kid that sat in the back and cracked jokes, Finn, calling out to him to lay off her.   
  
  
  
Bellamy paused then grinned when he realized she'd followed him. He shrugged casually. "We don't know for sure nobody survived the apocalypse."   
  
  
  
Her eyebrows shot straight up in disbelief. "Yes, the world's leading scientists are just mistaken. Plenty of human life down there - that's why we're rushing back." She gestured out the wide window they were passing at the jade and cerulean orb they floated by.   
  
  
  
"At least down there we'd be free to have a life," he grit, eyes darkening. It puzzled her, but he just pressed a warm hand to her shoulder and gave it a faint squeeze saying, "See you around," before he was gone.

* * *

It took her a few weeks to learn why Bellamy was always rushing back to his quarters right after class. She was in medbay, knee deep in sorting medicine vials and rolling gauze for the shelves when there came a knock at the open doorframe. There he was, dressed in a Guard uniform.   
  
  
  
"Bellamy?" she asked in surprise.   
  
  
  
"That's Cadet Blake to you, Princess," he smirked. The nickname had stuck despite her protests. But she didn't mind it so much anymore.   
  
  
  
"What are you doing here?"   
  
  
  
"I'm in training. I was assigned the medbay. I didn't know you worked here."   
  
  
  
"Just interning," she held up a pack of bandages so he could see. "They have me doing all the really glamorous stuff."   
  
  
  
He smiled, but it didn't light up his face the way she liked best, like the way it looked when they were going shot for shot in Earth Skills over the best way to track animal prints or navigate using the stars.   
  
  
  
"Be thankful you don't have to do anything too ... traumatizing today," is all he said.   
  
  
  
She wondered what he meant but felt like she couldn't ask. He went to stand at his post by the door and she resumed her busy work, watching Dr. Jackson check on a patient with a strange blood infection several beds over. When her break began, she pulled her lunch bag from the tiny refrigerator tucked near the storage room and deliberated, weighing an apple in her palm. But she hadn't seen him move once from his post in several hours. That helped her make up her mind.   
  
  
  
"Hey Blake, you want to split my lunch?" she asked from right behind him, causing him to startle. "You're not a very good guard if someone asking you a question makes you jump."   
  
  
  
He scoffed, running his fingers through his hair while eyeing her and the bag in her hands.   
  
  
  
"I don't know ..." he hestiated.   
  
  
  
"What?" she exaggerated looking up and down the empty hallway. "You think someone is coming to attack us in the next twenty minutes? It's my break. I can sit out here with you."   
  
  
  
"You're a firecracker, Princess."  
  
  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment."   
  
  
  
He slumped down the wall, and she sat next to him, feeling a little dart of happiness shoot through her stomach when her arm brushed his. She diligently split apart her sandwich, handing him the part that came out slightly larger.   
  
  
  
Over time, she learned he loved classics legends because his mother read them to him as a kid for bedtime stories. The Blakes lived in Sector 7 where Aurora worked as a seamstress to make ends meet. Clarke made Bellamy recite a few stories he knew by heart by begging until he finally gave in. He complained all the while about what a pain in the ass she was but snuck glances at her from under his shaggy curls while he talked all the same. He never complained about not having enough food. He was by no means scrawny. But she never saw him with his own prepared meal, and so she continued to share.   
  
  
  
When a little girl she treated the week before for a virus came in unexpectedly to present her with a drawing, Clarke beamed, crouching down to thank her and give her a hug.   
  
  
  
"That kid made you really happy," Bellamy observed an hour later as he took a handful of the nuts she held out. The zing flew through her fingers upon brushing his. She chastised herself for being stupid.   
  
  
  
Clarke shrugged lightly. "I was glad she was better and--" she glanced at him furtively.   
  
  
  
"What?"   
  
  
  
"I really like art." She sighed, tilting her head back against the titanium wall. "Sometimes I wish I could just draw all day, but ... that's silly."   
  
  
  
"Hmm," Bellamy was thoughtful for a few moments. "Do you like training to be a doctor?"   
  
  
  
He was the first person who'd ever asked.   
  
  
  
Her eyes jumped open, wide and blue. "Yes," she nodded at him. "Of course. It's good to be useful to our people."   
  
  
  
He tilted his head to the side but didn't say anything else as they ate. 

* * *

One afternoon he pulled out a tattered royal blue book from the pocket of his black jacket, handing it over to her. She gasped in awe, gently taking it from him and noticing the gilding dusting the pages and the intricate rose bush pattern sloping around the front cover. A cut out sitting under the peeling golden letters - _Grimms Book of Fairy Tales_ it said - showed a tall tower made of stone and a beautiful woman with long, flowing blonde hair in the window. A brunette man wearing boots and a cape stood far below her, reaching his arms up in supplication.  
  
  
  
"Bellamy!" she gasped. He bit his lip and ducked his head.   
  
  
  
"Do you like it?"   
  
  
  
"I love it!" She pulled him into a quick hug before she could second-guess herself. He went very still but then patted the small of her back a few times. "Where did you get it?" she began flipping the pages, more so he wouldn't see the flush rising in her cheeks than anything else. There were beautiful illustrations every few pages to complement the words. And the first letter of every story was done up in striking calligraphy.   
  
  
  
"Don't worry about it," he crinkled his nose at her, "I just had to kill a few guys." She shoved him playfully and he laughed, a nice, rich sound that echoed in her chest as he returned to his post.   
  
*  
  
When the drugged-out man with the slanting eyes and stringy hair curling away from his scalp came up from behind her when she was checking a patient's vital signs, it caught her unaware.   
  
  
  
"Your fucking mother floated my wife!" he roared, taking the bottle of alcohol he was swigging from and smashing it against the wall.   
  
  
  
Clarke spun around just in time for the intruder to grab her by the throat and push her hard into the wall behind her. She gasped, struggling to claw at his hands to no avail. She was losing her vision - it was spotty and blurring at the edges of her eyes. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.   
  
  
  
The dark shape came up behind the man and pounced like a wild beast, knocking her assailant to the ground. It took her a moment to gasp and blink, rub her throat. Reorient herself with her surroundings. Her ears buzzed. It was the thudding at her feet that woke her up. Bellamy pounding his fists into every square inch of the man he could reach.   
  
  
  
"Bellamy! Stop! Please! You'll kill him!" she fell to her knees and dug her fingers into his arm.   
  
  
  
"He deserves it," he snarled, staring down in disgust as her mother and Jackson came rushing into the room.   
  
  
  
Class ended early two days later because Pike had a migraine he couldn't shake. Bellamy was quiet all through the lecture, and Clarke didn't push him, didn't try to say anything more than hello when she first arrived. But as she made her way back toward Alpha Station, a warm hand slipped into hers, and she found him behind her, looking uncertain again.   
  
  
  
"Can I show you something?" he asked, dropping her hand.   
  
  
It tingled at her side.   
  
  
  
He looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep. She felt the same way. She nodded.   
  
  
  
He took her down to a viewing deck in sector 7. It was more cramped and scuffed up than the ones she was used to, but the view of the silvery moon rising over the Earth was somehow much more magical. Bellamy shuffled his feet beside her. She sucked up her courage and stepped a fraction closer to him, laying a hand on his forearm.   
  
  
  
"I'm not mad at you. You were just doing your job. He wanted to kill me."   
  
  
  
He kept his gaze on the airless world outside the thick inches of glass.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, ok," he said at last, raising up an arm and snaking it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

* * *

He wanted to walk her back home but knew he didn't have clearance for Alpha Station yet.   
  
  
  
"Guess that's just one of the perks of being privileged," he tried to joke at the foot of the bridge.

 

The small moment set the differences between them in stark relief. It hurt - feeling separate from him. It hurt a lot.    
  
  
  
"There aren't as many as you'd think," she said darkly without thinking. He raised his eyebrows, but she didn't elaborate.   
  
  
  
"Princess?" he stepped closer to her. "Is everything ok?"   
  
  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest, backing up a step. "I don't want to talk about it, Bellamy."   
  
  
  
"Are you sure--?"   
  
  
  
"Yes," she huffed. "Goodnight."   
  
  
  
She never glanced back, so she didn't see him watch her until she was out of sight.   
  
  
  
They wound up at the same party, which was beyond strange. Because Clarke didn't go to parties. But Wells was hosting this one. He knew Miller, and Miller, it turned out, knew Bellamy. It was crowded in the makeshift lounge that wrapped around a long corner in an L shape. People were drinking out of tin cups full of something clear and pungent smelling. Monty insisted she try one, and it tasted like battery acid burning down her throat. But it did make her muscles light and loose. So she had one more. It was when she was setting the empty cup down on a table that she noticed Bellamy. He was standing in a corner, a pretty girl with wavy brown hair chatting to him and grinning like she just found out she was getting the chance to go to Earth. Something slick and dark and mean curdled in Clarke's stomach. It was a new feeling, but it felt like one worth acting on. She marched over to them, waiting to be noticed with her hands on her hips.   
  
  
  
"Princess," Bellamy said slowly. His freckles were glowing that night. His smirk was slow but complete and reminded her of the day they first met. "Fancy meeting you here."   
  
  
  
"Wells is my best friend. Of course I'm here."   
  
  
  
The brunette - Roma, Clarke thought her name might be - stared between them with distaste.   
  
  
  
"Did you need something?" Bellamy asked in mock concern; his voice was lazy from the moonshine. But still sweet and low and making things bloom between her thighs.   
  
  
  
 _Oh, fuck it._  
  
  
  
"Yeah. You. Come on."   
  
  
  
She yanked at his hand and was maybe a little too surprised by how he followed easily. She scouted out an empty, oversized cushioned chair in the farthest corner of the gathering and pushed him forward. He collapsed into it despite how much taller and broader he was compared to her. He chuckled when he planted a hand on the side of her thigh and rubbed gently, back and forth, back and forth while he looked up at her. "You're feisty tonight, Princess."   
  
  
  
But her face morphed from a scowl to a frown to a whimper the longer she looked at him. The stress that had been rising up in her body for the past few weeks suddenly oozing out at the presence of kindness in his eyes. And then she suddenly climbed into his lap and tucked up her knees, hiding her head in his chest.   
  
  
  
"What? What?" he demanded insistently, stroking her back and pulling her closer in concern. "What happened?"   
  
  
  
"I don't know. But the Chancellor keeps watching my dad," she whispered to him in the darkness. Her words slurred a fraction. She was hiding in his neck where it was warm and sweet smelling. "He's an engineer. He won't leave him alone. I don't know what's going on, but Bellamy, I've never seen them like this. All these private conversations, arguments. It's not good. They won't even tell my mom whatever the hell's going on. It's a problem. I just know it."   
  
  
  
He rocked her gently, probably unsure what to say, unsure if her fears were founded or simply traceable to liquor. But he did kiss the top of her head as she clutched tighter at his T-shirt.   
  
  
  
He walked her back to the Alpha Station bridge an hour later, pushing a stray bit of hair behind her ear before saying goodnight. For a moment it felt like he was going to lean in and kiss her, but then he didn't, just shook his head. That night she dreamed of his body moving above hers, his fingers in her hair and his lips at her neck. She woke to find dampness between her legs.   
  
  
  
She never saw him again. Because four days later, she was dragged to the Sky Box. 


	4. Chapter 4

Bellamy's wearing a janitor's uniform. She notices it as he steps into the swell of low lights running the length of the floor. She stands up, walks as far as she can to reach him before the chain holds her in place. The look in his eyes makes her gasp. The warmth is gone, replaced by a distant coldness. He unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants and kicks off his boots before pushing them down to his ankles and getting rid of them.   
  
  
  
"Bellamy," she shakes her head. "What ... Why ..."   
  
  
  
There are no words, at least no words that will come from the stuck place in her throat. Bellamy drags a chair close to the mattress and the place where her chain begins in the ground. He rolls down his boxers, light brown cock springing free, already half hard, and reaches for her hips. She's too stunned to do anything but let him pull her onto his lap.   
  
  
  
She grabs his face with both hands, makes him look at her. "Bellamy, what's going on?"   
  
  
  
He doesn't answer, but pushes his hand under her shift and starts stroking her pussy lips. She reddens when he finds moisture and starts spreading it around her clit.   
  
  
  
"I had a sister," he grits as he works, rolling up the material to examine her intently. "She was illegal - lived under the floor. She was a secret. She was my responsibility."   
  
  
  
Her mind can't comprehend what he's saying. Nobody has a sister, a brother. It's a one-child only policy. One child or you die. She's trying to grapple with his words when his fingers press at her pussy, tease her opening before sliding inside. She's wriggling on her lap with one of his firm hands cupping her ass cheek and the other staying just below her breast.   
  
  
  
"Your mother made sure my sister got sent to the Sky Box," Bellamy continues. "They floated my mother." His voice is dead.   
  
  
  
He strokes his cock a few times before pushing her hips up to hover over him. She hisses when his cock head brushes up against her. He won't meet her eyes. She wants to cry, to scream. But she can't do those things. So she grasps his shoulders like she's learned and eases herself onto his thickness, taking the pain of the stretch as her penance. He does all the work, picking her up and dropping her down so many times she thinks she might shatter to pieces. He's bigger than the others she's had, definitely longer, but thicker than most as well. It's blissful pain that erupts in her bloodstream. His eyes are so dark, so wounded. When he comes hard inside her, biceps shaking a little with the effort, he mouths at her breasts through the cloth, and she continues rocking into him, desperate to chase the first time it actually felt good for her too.   
  
  
  
When he returns the next day, he pushes her to his knees and slides his cock into her mouth. He tastes like salt. His length gags her, but she tries to stay calm and work on bringing him pleasure.   
  
  
  
"You always had a sassy mouth," he says, tangling his fingers in her messy blonde waves.   
  
  
  
She goes willingly against the wall, belly brushing the chilled titanium.   
  
  
  
"They took my father too. Floated him for knowing the Ark was dying," she whispers. "We're running out of oxygen."   
  
  
  
"He's not dead," he snarls, thrusting into cock head into her channel, already embarrassingly wet for him. "He's in the Sky Box."   
  
  
  
"W-What?"   
  
  
  
"That's all I know."   
  
  
  
Then he starts fucking her in earnest, and all she can focus on is his smoky musk surrounding her and one of his hands splayed across her stomach while he bites at her neck, marking her.   
  
  
  
"In another life, you would have been mine," he murmurs. She didn't know words alone could make you come. 

* * *

Clarke's surprised when he appears one final time on day five. But maybe she shouldn't be - Bellamy Blake was never anything but thorough. He gets close to her body and, for the first time, pulls the shift over her head, tearing it in the process. She wants to cover her nakedness from him, as ridiculous as it sounds. He manhandles her breasts, watching their girth spill over his palms. She gasps when he pinches her nipples, trapping them tightly between his forefingers and thumbs, but he just keeps going until she has to beg him to stop. He shakes his head like he's clearing it. She feels him growing harder against her thigh. 

 

 

"Lay down on the mattress and try to fight me off," he demands. 

 

She frowns at him. "What?"

 

He delivers a swift slap to her ass in response. "Do it, Clarke." 

 

"Bellamy--"

" _Clarke_." He stares at her so long, she loses her breath. He's serious. He needs this. Some part of her wants to give it to him, feels like she would give him anything he asked of her at this point. 

So she lays down on her back and lets him climb on top of her. She fights like he wants, pushing at his chest and trying to slap him or sink her nails into his amber skin. But he fights harder, pins down her flailing limbs and her legs fall open to him anyway in the end. He doesn't hurt her - he seems to be just be after control. "Not such a princess now, are you?" he asks darkly before plunging inside her for the third time. He pushes his finger into her mouth and starts running it around her asshole a minute later. 

 

"Please, Bellamy. No, don't," she whimpers. 

 

"Be quiet," he tells her. "Just this once, don't argue with me."

He continues pressing inside, deep enough until it hurts so good, feels so sharp and overwhelming that her moans and broken renditions of his name might be begging for more. After he comes at the back of her cunt, he sticks his dick into his boxers. She tries to rise with him, but he pushes her flat into the mattress and dresses hurriedly, leaving as quietly as he entered like he can't even look at her.

 

Others visit her after him. There's Wick who makes her bounce on his dick while he slaps her ass repeatedly until he explodes. There's Sinclair who pummels her into the mattress, whispering that she's a filthy whore for getting herself into this position and disgracing her family.

 

That night she can't stop crying.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

When the baby's born, she has no doubt. The freckles, curling dark hair and almond-shaped eyes give her daddy away. His mother is dead, floating, sleeping in the stars. His sister locked up in a cell.   
  
  
  
Bellamy pushes the door open to her private room. His hair's longer, and there's scruff growing on his chin. He's still wearing a janitor's uniform, hands redder than the rest of his skin. She takes a deep breath to calm her shaking.   
  
  
  
"I know it's not enough to make up for everything else," she whispers to him. "But ... I wanted it to be you. So bad."  
  
  
  
He stares down at her, at the baby, eyes wide with quietly devastating surprise.   
  
  
  
"Bellamy ... _please_. You have to forgive me."   
  
  
  
A tear slips down her cheek when he falls to his knees at her side. 

 

"There's nothing to forgive you for." 

 

She just shakes harder, pressing her lips together so much they hurt, tears glistening on the tips of her lashes.  
  
  
  
"My mother ... if she knew what I've done, who I am. She raised me to be better, to be good. And all I do is hurt people," he mumbles, more to himself than to her. "I'm a monster."   
  
  
  
"You're not," she says forcefully, cupping his face and trying to soothe him with one hand while pressing their child close to her chest with the other.   
  
  
  
"I am. This is unforgivable."   
  
  
  
"No," she whispers. She's had nine months to think it over. "No it's not. I've lost everything, Bellamy. I can't lose you too."   
  
  
  
"I'm a monster," he repeats it so softly she barely hears it.   
  
  
  
"Stop saying that! You did everything you could to protect your sister, your family. That's who you are."   
  
  
  
She can't bear to add that he did everything he could to protect her, too. In the time before. Maybe even in that holding room by showing up several times. Or that this baby in her arms is his family as well now. But the way he's looking at her so full of painful wonder, so agonizingly deep, tells her he knows.   
  
  
  
Her tears taste like salt in her mouth when she reaches up to press her lips to his softly for the first time. His tremble. But then his hand covers her knee gently when he finally moves his mouth against hers. It's the best thing she's ever felt.   
  
  
  
"If you need forgiveness, fine. I'll give that to you, you're forgiven."   
  
  
  
He takes a heavy, shuddering breath. When she passes him their child, he cradles the infant like she's the most delicate porcelain. Clarke lifts the blanket and scoots over slowly, allowing him to slip underneath the covers with her. It's nice having him next to her. Warm. Reminds her of how she once curled up with him in an armchair a lifetime ago.    
  
  
  
"She needs a name," Clarke says quietly.   
  
  
  
His gaze is surprised.   
  
  
  
"You didn't ..."   
  
  
  
"No, I wanted to wait for you."   
  
  
  
"You still had hope after everything I said? Everything I _did_?"   
  
  
  
She watches the guilt and the demons creeping back into his eyes.   
  
  
  
She shrugs.   
  
  
  
"I always had faith in you." Finally, she can relax into her pillows. "My father is coming tomorrow to say goodbye." He hears her gulp. "Before he gets floated."   
  
  
  
Bellamy leans his body into hers, a small comfort, and presses a tiny kiss to the space above her ear.   
  
  
  
"I'm so sorry."   
  
  
  
"I'm sorry for your loss, too," Clarke replies, holding his gaze for an extended moment before returning her eyes to their daughter.   
  
  
  
"Aurora," she says at last. "I want to name her Aurora."   
  
  
  
When she looks back up at Bellamy, he has tears sliding down his freckled cheeks.   
  


"It means light in the darkness." 

 

"You don't have to do that, Princess." 

  
  
Clarke takes a deep breath.

 

"I wanted you, Bellamy. I want her. I want us. All you have to do is say yes." 

 

Her heart is driving a harsh beat, gummy against her ribs. An eternity goes by in slow motion. 

 

Bellamy puts his arm around her shoulders. She lets go, finally free. 

 

"Yes." 


End file.
